My Mistake : short version
by Gor1llazfreak
Summary: Murdoc couldn't help taking him outside. He had enough of it all and wanted to end. And it did... in the wrong way.
1. Chapter 1

Murdoc was playing by the balcony. He held his wooden horse securely like he really was riding one and jumped about, neighing. Murdoc was small. Smaller than the rest of the other eight year olds and he had one crimson eye and one brown eye which made the others in his knight sessions look at him peculiarly. He was small, but he was also big. Inside.

He pretended to leap over a thin stream, landing boldly with a high stance. Chest puffed and shoulders back. Galloping down a slope, he accelerated abruptly. Feeling the wind rip at his skin, the bumping of the horse lifting and dropping. Then he felt his nose crumple.

He must've bumped into a boulder of some sort. Murdoc peered up and clenched his horse tight so much his fingers turned white. "Apologies, Sir Hannibal", Murdoc's voice was just above a whisper, "you are forgiven, young brother, however it would be most appreciated if you attend to your 'duties' in the Palace Gardens".

Murdoc bowed and stepped to the side, not once looking up. Sir Hannibal resembled their father in many ways: dark eyes, tall, intimidating. He always wore the same leather belt with emeralds engraved around the sheathe. It was feminine which made Murdoc query his sense of wear.

Murdoc walked along the corridor. It was silent except for the echo of his shoes against the stone floor. Continuing forward, he could hear more. Distant mumbles and the clatter of chains near the Dungeons. It was most likely feeding hour for the prisoners, despite that fact; the disturbance has never been this great. Perhaps they are preparing new slaves? No. Not slaves. Murdoc stopped and listened intensely. Is it just one slave? Murdoc could not contemplate a suitable purpose for only preparing one slave. It was enough trouble with twenty or so; the entire concept of it just presumed bizarre. Or perhaps it's...

Murdoc shook his head. He erased the thought clean from his mind. His curiosity had gotten the better of him once too many occasions; he was going to be in control now. It was his weakness: curiosity, mother stated so herself. Murdoc shrugged and sprinted to the Gardens

The boy's breath was shaky and it hurt him to breathe in. Observing, the boy scanned the area. A bench to sleep on and a lavatory created by compiled news sheets. He wriggled his fingers and referred, for the first time, the shackles clasped around his wrists and ankles.

Rusty and worn out... The boy frowned. No purpose feeling sympathetic, the ones who survived were the ones who forgot. The boy searched for any guards outside his cell. Praise be to Kubglasyn! There were none. He smiled then winced, that hurt him too, but nevertheless, he would have to endure the pain if he ever desired to get out.


	2. Chapter 2

"I came to meet Her Majesty, how does she?"

The maidens in white jumped, flustered with unexpectedness. They bowed, but one who dressed in blue. She was petite, decorated with paper white skin and lime eyes. "Master Murdoc, she does of good health at this occasion". She cleared her throat, "with all due respect, may I suggest that you not be tardy for your knight sessions, they are of great importance and your Tutor Stephen does not take lightly to inconveniences". Murdoc nodded, he knew everything Janette had said, he knew it was all true, but even so he wanted to see both Her Majesty and Janette. This was the only juncture, any other and it would be untimely.

"Janette, I am overwhelmed to see you also", she sighed then smiled, jaunty and animated. Murdoc always viewed Janette as his ma more than Her Majesty, not discourteously. It was merely the way that he felt. Murdoc went over to the bed where a frail appearing lay limp. Her eyes were shut so Murdoc considered her slumbering. He knelt down beside her and stared for a while, Murdoc was completely taciturn until he stood up. He did that numerous moments and every moment, the look in Murdoc's eyes would be more and more desolate. Murdoc forced a smile and excused himself for constantly arriving at ill-timed periods then left.

The boy was released from the wall but not from his shackles. He smelt and his skin was soiled. The guard yanking him along was big built with dark spectacles that rested over his wide nose. He was black so was instantly appointed on guard duty over the prisoners and slaves. The boy heard his name to be Tony.

He pushed the boy into a commodious room and threw a bucket of water on him. The boy inhaled a tight breath and shrivelled in on himself. His blue hair stuck to his face. Then a similar uniformed man entered, not muscular but still big built.

"His Highness ordered that he should be taken to his chambers at once". He grunted and glared at the slave, "you should dry him first", "yes sir". Tony dragged the boy outside; everyone he passed swept their oculars either completely away or magnetized them on their passing by.

"You shall stay here until you are dry, do not attempt to escape otherwise you will be punished severely" then Tony returned boy looked around, shivering, there was frost slapped on every surface of the area. Gardeners were still attending to their bushes and the messengers were still scurrying about with bundles of sheets in their grasp. They all had blue fingers and red noses. He gritted his teeth which shook from the cold. He sat down and rubbed his skin, it was the best he could do. Lord Kubglasyn would never allow this to ever occur.


	3. Chapter 3

"Master Murdoc, you are tardy again!" Tutor Stephen tapped the wooden floor five times, hands at hips, and then he leaned to the side with his arms crossed. It was a pattern he did habitually whenever he was infuriated. Stephen had a wiry body for a man of high status. He strode over to an alignment of gleaming trophies. He had won them during several sword battles between other Knights from different kingdoms.

"Apologies, I was in the medical warden. Quite the distance to travel from to and fro". The Tutor rolled his eyes in response

"That is no excuse for a student who requires the best of results". Murdoc sat at his seat in the front against the wall. The floor boards creaked and the desk legs were mismatched. Murdoc was never particularly enthusiastic about Knight Sessions. The students were constantly sneering and make impudent remarks, which most of them were directed at him. Unlike Tutor Norm's session, who were the exact opposite of this inanity.

"In today's session we will be focussing on your stance and defence". Stephen raised his hand for attention; the class preferred combat skills and offense.

"I am fully aware that we have already completed these topics, however, the results from your performance the previous week show otherwise. In fact, only one student passed, so you all will be redoing your performance". Disappointed, the students huffed and threw up their hands in defeat. Some turned to look at a boy who was grinning sheepishly. They patted him on the back and applauded for him.

"Certainly you would not have failed, Adam, it would be unconventional if you had not passed!" The excitement was ephemeral as Stephen smacked his cane against a desk,

"Let us continue". Again? Murdoc thought, Adam hews a sword like it was his dear life. It was quite unfair. Arbxaia must have built Adam with all the wonders of the world; he was fast, good at swordsmanship, profusely built and courteous. Murdoc sighed and slumped his head on his hand, he was not talented anywhere. Suddenly, he jolted up in remembrance of something….

The ball is taking place tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

The man advanced towards the boy, casting a shadow over him. His dark eyes burned straight through the boy, black and menacing. He studied the dishevelled slave beneath him, and then he knelt to reach eye level. The boy turned away. So this is the King of Delebt, conqueror of over thirty domains and titled 'The Prosperous'. The only reason he gained such a rank was because he fabricated and bribed people. Either that or he simply portended them.

The King smiled.

That made the boy jump and Tony who was holding him,

"You most definitely shall be the sacrifice. Your blood will satisfy the God Arbxaia and he will bestow our land with riches and treasures as a reward. For the head of a Shissia". Tony's eyes widened but nobody noticed because of his spectacles.

He'd never heard of such a thing. According to his understanding, the tradition was that a boy of sin is perished for the God Arbxaia. The God transforms the sin into goods and spreads it across the land to apologize. The God said that his creations' actions are his actions, repent to apologize.

So what 'Shissia' had His Highness spoken of? He peered down at the boy and his hair, the blue strands seemed illuminated.

"Tony, you are dismissed. I will order for another guard to watch over the boy, so leave". Tony nodded and walked out, only realising now that his hands were shaking.

"Stand slave", he hesitated for a moment then stood. His muscles were stiff due to the cold and his eyes felt heavy. Last night's slumber had been ineffective, just like every other night.

The boy was lost in his thoughts, he staggered slightly and engrossed himself in imagining various meals. The King walked around in a speculating manner, then he swung his hand, fast and powerful. It connected with the boy's face and he fell hard.

The King smirked,

"I ordered you to stand up, so stand up!" He kicked and kicked until the boy was standing again. No daze was he in this time. Choler and ignominy overwhelmed the slave, if this were to continue The King would see his body headless. He slapped him again but the boy strengthened his stance,

"Not bad". The King slapped and punched and kicked, the boy collapsed but there was no end, he swung his arms bellowing ludicrously.

"Stand up! Stand up!" The boy was curled up, clutching his stomach, wincing and shouting back. The King's foot rested on the boy's head, then he began to push down, harder and harder,

"Stop it! Please, stop it! Stop it!" He continued pressuring the boy who screamed. He felt his head bursting like a balloon. Then The King lifted his foot, and the boy whimpered and cried. He scrambled away, his shackles weighing an adult horse.

"Remember this, you are nothing. You will never amount to anything in your sorry life let alone overthrow my kingdom with your non existent God 'Kubglasyn'. You're more worth being dead than alive. That said, I must commend you on your strength, Sacrifice Slave Stuart.

Murdoc sat with his legs outstretched while a maiden polished his shoes. Thumping, his heart was edging closer and closer to nearly pounding right out of his chest. Breathe in... And out, breathe in... And out,

"What's on your mind, Master Murdoc?" The young boy bowed his head, there seemed to be an entire parade occurring within his stomach; It was very much fluttery and exuberant.

"Nothing but the ball I suppose", the maiden gave Murdoc a reassuring grin,she was good at those,

" you will be enquisite, the most flamboyant of them all. I believe that with your kindness alone, you can manage to get plenty of fair laidies to dance with you, and I believe that..." Murdoc's vision went blurry with water, he was touched. He had never been complemented like that before and never knew how good the experience felt.

He blinked his tears away, he was being over dramatic, like an infant. He pretended to cheer up, he didn't want everyone's efforts to help him go to waste. He had to be the knight everyone would fear, the gentleman everyone would respect and the Prince everyone would bow to.

Murdoc got up and headed to the Ball.


	5. Chapter 5

Stuart tugged at his shackles; he still remained attached to the wall. His body ached with cuts and bruises all over him, but the small fraction of hope kept him going. It was that period again when the guards were on their dinner break and the guard who was appointed here was using the lavatory.

Stuart calculated that he had about six minutes and twenty three seconds. He tugged a pulled, heaving and exerting the remaining strength he had. No use, although he had loosened the joints earlier by using the end of his shackles to twist the screw. Nothing. He couldn't give up though, if does not escape tonight then he would end up dead.

He heard a crack. Stuart's arm felt light. He looked over and had a moment of panic. It was gone. Then he noticed it, swinging of the wall and he nearly laughed out loud. He forced the other arm and it came loose, he bent down and worked on his shackles hugging his ankles. He was free. He had never felt so elated in his whole life. He walked over to the bars and glanced left and right. Three minutes left. Creaking, the gate opened and Stuart dropped the ring of keys behind him and stepped out cautiously.

He had managed to attack a patrolling guard and swipe the keys along the way. He heard footsteps approaching, uneven and quick like a childish impression of a galloping horse. Stuart used. He stepped back inside and waited, swallowing hard as if there was a brick lodged in his throat. The stepping stopped

"Is anyone there?" The voice was undeveloped and unfamiliar, not a guard. Then a head popped in, Stuart froze, stuck in time, staring at the boy who reminded him of someone important.

"Your-" Stuart cut him off, clasping a hand over his mouth,

"Don't utter a word". The boy shuffled out,

"you're all bruised!" What was wrong with him? He was more concerned with his injuries than his escape. Perhaps Stuart had been mistaken and this boy was insignificant.

"Who are you?" Stuart was stern and hostile, getting ready to attack with his shackles. The boy opened his mouth to answer, but grumbling in the distance interrupted him. The boy grabbed Stuart and they both sped down the corridor. Stuart was bothered. This boy could've been an angel, soaring through the corridor with ease. No one stopped him. Everyone bowed.

"We need to get you out of here. If the guards find you, they'll lock you up again. If father found you... he will not let you live". They came to a large gate and the bot ordered it open. The guard there was jumpy and fumbled with the keys. Stuart guessed that he was inexperienced making him oblivious to the situation. He smirked, approving of the boy's intelligence. But it ended all too quickly.

"Wait!" Stuart halted, his voice hoarse. He had gotten this far, but felt a tug at his stomach. What was going to happen to this boy? Surely anyone who has committed such treason will get a harsh punishment, regardless of their status. He didn't even know him, yet...

"My name is Murdoc, if you were wondering before, but that is not important right now. You are!" Stuart blushed,

"shut up!"

"No! What father does is callous, I totally disagree with him, but I don't have the power to do anything except this. So take this opportunity to live in freedom, go!" He pushed Stuart away, urging him to go through, but despite both their wishes, they jerked before departing, something was holding them back.

Murdoc was first to speak,

"Whatever your name may be, I- I promise that I will gain that power to do something, to change this repulsive system of tyranny and-"

"Stu-, no. It's 2D"

"Pardon?"

"My name is 2D", Murdoc cocked his head to the side and 2D nearly giggled. This boy was strange but he liked him.

"I like your hair. It's blue, my favourite colour". Stuart's eyes flickered behind Murdoc and he realised that their time was up, the guards had noticed them. They both longed for someone like each but they had no choice.


	6. Chapter 6

Murdoc stood above an immense audience, he was standing beside his brother and his father waving inertly on the balcony. Murdoc's sweat was cold, an icy breeze crawling all over him. After his father had made his speech, he would have to be amongst the crowd showing off how much of a great dancer he was, but he wasn't a great dancer. He would trip over his own feet and was too short and weak to hold any lady. Then there was that boy...2D...

"My people of Delebt!" His voice boomed and drew the whole crowd silent.

"Tonight we shall sacrifice for the all powerful Arbxaia!" Everyone cheered and The King gestured to the guard to bring forward the sacrifice, but there was no sign of movement.

"What are those pathetic beings doing?" Hissed Hannibal. The King swiftly went to attend to the issue. Murdoc felt a lump in his throat, he staggered back in an attempt to be forgotten about. He had freed slaves and prisoners previously so he'll be the prime suspect. The King strode out, his face expressionless, but Murdoc knew that he was exasperated.

"Citizens, there seems to be an error at hand. Not to worry!" Hannibal stepped forward and began lecturing the people about staying calm. Meanwhile, His Highness ordered the slaves and guards for there to be a search. He had raised his voice so much, he was on the verge of screaming. Murdoc exhaled, a breath he did not know he was holding. No one noticed.

He quickly scrambled away, not taking the risk of being caught now, when he was jolted back. It took him a moment to realise that his wrist was burning, squeezed and twisted. He yelped and dropped to the floor, face to face with his father.

"You disgusting, vile, insignificant piece of filth!" Tears drowned and dribbled down Murdoc's eyes,

"Apologies, Sir. Apologies, apologies-" The King only tightened his grip, Murdoc whimpering like a dog locked outside,

"Where is it?" Murdoc knew it was not the time for smart remarks, so he squeaked,

"I let him go, ow! Please, please, please, please, pleasepleaseplease-". There was a crunch and His Highness let go, dropping the half unconscious boy. Hannibal walked in, completely disregarding the broken, unkempt boy as if he was a mere withering flower, stepping over him dismissively.

"Your Highness, they are waiting", there was silence. Hannibal opened his mouth to repeat when The King growled. Enmity making his whole body shake vigorously. He paused. Hannibal's concern was evident on his face, this was unorthodox as far as Hannibal knew and the idea of his father's behaviour made him have cold feet. Through gritted teeth, The King spoke,

"Never mind them, I will arrange for another sacrifice. Keep them occupied for the time being. And your brother..." Hannibal directed his gaze to Murdoc.

"Do not fret father, I understand", Hannibal bowed, leaving behind the room with heavy air, almost unbreathable. The King sighed, a mix of anger and humiliation boiling inside. A volcano ready to explode. He turned to Murdoc, his hand outstretched, leaning to grab the boy. He took a clump of hair and raised him so his feet dangled.

Twitching, the boy resembled a rodent, one leg twitching while it's existence faded away. He sprung to life. It was extremely sudden that even The King released him,

"you mangy, idiotic fool!" He lifted his fists to club Murdoc, then froze. He smiled callously.


	7. Chapter 7

Murdoc breathed in and out raspy breaths, shivering violently, his arm was pounding. I'm really going to receive the worst of them all, this time father might not allow me to eat for a week rather than three days, but his smile made him consider otherwise.

"Murdoc", The King stroked his own hair back,

"you will be set free from your miserable life, I will allow you to do as much as you intend... But not here". Murdoc couldn't believe it. He was exiling him! Who knew if he'd be welcomed into another kingdom, certainly not with his status.

"Follow me", Murdoc was petrified. His heart thumped louder than his thoughts and his mouth was drier than any scorching desert out there. His feet were heavy like an anvil, making him almost drag himself around. They were back on the balcony, approaching the edge where Hannibal was commanding the audience to bow. The King raised his hand and they all stood.

"Fellow people, I was disturbed by an encumbrance. Nevertheless, let us continue ". He cleared his throat and began bellowing again,

"The sacrifice for the great God Arbxaia is among us!" Everyone cheered, but then gradually began to fall silent as they searched for the sacrifice. Murdoc was shoved forward, unable to comprehend what was happening. Before he knew it, he was bent over a block of wood, the crowed in an eerie awe.

"Your Highness", Hannibal became frantic, unsure of what to do. He had realised the situation before anyone else,

"hand me the axe", Hannibal shook his head, this was insane.

"I ordered you to HAND ME THE AXE!" The King lunged at the axe and swung it high in the air.

Murdoc couldn't hear anything but the pulse of his heart beating rhythmically. The world spun around him, the colours a blur. He found himself staring at his own body.

Was that his body? Where was the head? Dripping. What was that dripping? For some reason he hated it, taunting him like it knew everything and he didn't. Controlling him like a kitten following the red... Red. Apples, lips, roses, cheeks, noses, poppies, cherries, cloaks, crowns, evil. Bloodbloodblood. I thought only blood was red and liquidy?

That was strange. That big word he liked. Abnormal. Am I dreaming? Yes, the was probably it. Tomorrow he had his Knight performance. He would prove everyone that... That he was the best. He would have to have an early start. I wonder if anyone remembered besides his Tutor.

Wait. He remembered. He saved that child. He was pretty. Maybe tomorrow he could go make friends with him. After he has awoken from this slumber. Wait. He can't wake up because... Seems like he can't see him then.

My Mistake.


End file.
